


In This Long Dream, Can You Find Me?

by sassafrassidy



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Dreamsharing, F/F, M/M, Multi, Post-Game(s), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7307011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassafrassidy/pseuds/sassafrassidy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams about Joshua are never positive. You'd think he'd be over the boy a year and a half later.</p><p>Spoilers for endgame and secret reports, ratings/tags might change later on. Some OCs to be added later for plot purposes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Walking All This Sleep to Get to You

**Author's Note:**

> Title for the work taken from "Long Dream" by Noda Makiko.  
> 

 

  1. _It always starts out the same. Joshua and I, panting, mistakenly thinking that it’s finally over. That we’ve finally won. Only to be reminded that Sho Minamimoto is not one to go down that easily. There’s something present that inevitably gives it away as a nightmare: sometimes it’s Sho being in his Taboo body already, sometimes it’s the slight outlines of feathers appearing behind Joshua’s back as he pushes me out of way. I know how it ends. By now, I’ve realized I’m dreaming. I know that Joshua doesn’t die, that this isn’t real, but I can’t stop myself from screaming. From crying. From crumpling to the floor. Joshua smiles at me, almost like he knows too._
  2. _The standoff. My hands clasped around a gun--they’re shaking. Joshua stands across from me, explaining the deal while moving his hands in fluid motions. I can’t hear anything he’s saying; my heart is pounding too loud, his voice swallowed up in its frantic beating. I haven’t heard him speak in months. I think I’ve forgotten what he sounds like. Eventually, he stops talking and points the gun at me. I can’t bring myself to do the same. The Room of Reckoning is slowly dyed red--I can’t tell if the bang I heard was the gun or my heart. Before my tumbling wakes me up, something changes about Joshua. His eyes widen, his mouth starts to move, his whispering is always cut-off, but I swear he’s saying my name._
  3. _A scenario I don’t know. It takes place in a kitchen with polished wooden floors, marble counter-tops and pale cabinets. It smells like something is cooking. A woman is standing in front of Joshua, who’s cowering in a corner. The woman always changes: ranging from Uzuki, Konishi, Shiki--sometimes even my own mother. She’s scolding him, when a man joins in. The man changes too: although he’s almost always Mr. H. I can never make out what they’re saying--it’s like I’m watching through a window. Joshua starts crying. He shakes his head, pulls back his sleeves, and looks the woman in the eye. The floor turns dark red. I never see what causes it, but I can only assume it’s coming from Joshua’s arms._



 

Neku rubbed his finger on the half-dry ink, smudging some of the last words slightly. He sighed and put down his pen, folded the page corner down, then closed the journal. “Some help that was,” he muttered to himself. He’d read on various online forums that keeping a dream journal usually helped sort through the meaning of dreams--something he’d been pushed to look into by Shiki, Beat, and Rhyme. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t regret speaking up to them, but he knew he had to talk to _someone_ about what had been going on. He didn’t want to bother his parents--busy as they were, they’d either panic or tell him he was looking into things too much. Besides, it’s not like they knew about The Game. Not like they even knew he’d died briefly a little over a year and a half ago. Hanekoma wasn’t an option, either. The cafe owner had plenty of knowledge, but bringing up The Game would only reopen old wounds. So that left him with fessing up to teachers or his friends and, well, it was obvious which to pick.

\---

“C’mon, Neku, it’ll be better than doing nothing!” Shiki insisted. Rhyme nodded in agreement.

“You’ll never know until you try, right?”

“I don’t see the point,” he grumbled. “I know what happens in them. They’re recurring nightmares. Of course I’d know.”

“True, but writing them down couldn’t hurt. Neither could sorting through all the different variations. Why not give it a try?”

“Yeah, Phones, listen to Rhyme and Shiki! They know better than you would!” Beat chimed in, his voice booming. Neku covered his face.

“Fine, fine! I’ll do it! Just… You guys don’t get to read it.”

“Wha’? How fair is that, yo?”

“Let him have that, Beat.” Rhyme giggled. “Can we at least pick out the journal for you? It can be a gift from all of us.”

“Oooh, good idea! I can get Eri to help decorate it too! Then we can all sign it, and--”

“You’re treating it like a cast. It’s just going to be a place to collect my thoughts.”

“Still, don’t you think that’ll be cute, Neku?”

“I guess,” he mumbled.

Shiki grabbed Rhyme’s hands and smiled. “It’s settled then! Project Make-Neku-a-Nice-Dream-Journal, start!”

\---

And that’s how he ended up with a stylish looking journal. He’d rather have some plain composition notebook, but he did appreciate the thought. The work they’d all put into it was obvious, and having it signed was sweet. He closed the journal and put it back on his shelf, next to a couple of old notebooks from school and his currently half-full sketchbook, then slumped onto his desk. The one thing he’d neglected to mention to his friends was that the topic of each dream was Joshua. The group hadn’t talked about him often--it’d been months since his name was last mentioned. Neku spoke about him a few times, but the only one who really knew about Josh had been Beat, and even then, he didn’t know him very well. The one time Beat did bring him up, Neku only looked to the floor and Shiki swiftly changed the subject. Ever since, his name was avoided at all cost, but… Part of him still wished he could be there. As much as he hated to admit it, Joshua _was_ the first friend he truly could relate to. And he missed having a someone to constantly snark at--as much of an ass Joshua was, Beat never understood his quips and Shiki would just respond with an awkward laugh.

He rubbed his eyes. The streets outside his window were lit with bright neon signs, the night crowds starting to calm down as clubs filled up. It was getting late, and he was tired, but sleep wasn’t really the solace it had been once the nightmares started. He messed with his wallet, packed his sketchbook into his bag, then pulled on a coat. “Well… Can’t have nightmares if I don’t sleep. Might as well take a walk.”

His parents were sipping tea at the kitchen table as he walked down the stairs. “Hey uh… I’m heading out for some fresh air. Might go draw at a park or something. I won’t be out too late.”

“Be careful,” his father said between sips.

“Dear, you’re being too lackadaisical. Be back before midnight, Neku.”

“Mm. Will do.”

A final wave to his parents later and he was out the door. The night air was cool, if humid. It stuck to his skin, thick and heavy. He rolled up the sleeves on his jacket and headed down the stairs of the apartment complex. A group of teens in the streets below were loudly giggling, joking with each other about something Neku didn’t get. His headphones rested around his neck, just in case. Shibuya was always noisy, and while he had grown to appreciate the constant murmur, sometimes it didn’t hurt to get away from it all. Tonight was one of those nights.

With no particular destination in mind, he settled to just let his feet take him wherever they wanted to go. Occasionally he’d see a group pass by, a couple holding hands and making the most of the spring night, or students who were enjoying the break. Some kids from his school waved at him as he passed; he managed to nod in their direction.  Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Hachiko. The statue of the dog looked a little intimidating in the nighttime lighting, but proud as ever as he peered over the plaza. Neku sat down next to it and pulled out his sketchbook. The plaza was still a little busy--people were walking by, taking pictures, and some even bringing their own dogs up to see the legendary Hachiko himself. Neku grabbed the pencil from his pocket and attempted sketching some of the stationary people nearby--two younger women chatting, a middle aged man on the phone, a woman taking a break from a walk. And then… He decided to move onto drawing his Game partners, in front of the statue. Shiki first--both her as Eri and her as herself, then together with Eri, laughing. Enjoying themselves. He had half a mind to draw them together and holding hands, if only to tease Shiki, but decided against it.

If he wanted to move along chronologically, Joshua would be next. He opted for Beat and Rhyme instead. His pencil moved quickly as he sketched out a rough rendition of Beat carrying Rhyme on his shoulders. He smiled to himself as he added in the details of Beat’s face, making his mouth agape as he laughed at something Rhyme said. After sketching them, he decided do one more of the whole group together--the group being Shiki, Eri, Beat, and Rhyme. He didn’t add himself in; it wouldn’t feel right with the way he’d been feeling recently. He’d ruin the happiness. It’s why he didn’t add in Joshua, either. They both didn’t belong.

 _Starting to get a little emo there, Neku_ , he thought to himself. He turned the page and contemplated sketching Joshua, only to be struck with the idea that there was a better place to draw him than Hachiko. And he knew it’d be open.

\---

Bells chimed as the door to WildKat opened, and Neku quietly walked in. The lights were turned down lower than during the daytime, and all of the bright orange seats were empty. Used mugs were scattered around the tables. Hanekoma turned around with a large smile. As soon as he saw Neku, he could’ve sworn it faltered a bit. “Phones! It’s been a while. What’re you doing out here so late?”

“Oh, uh. Drawing. I figured this would be a good place to do so, you know?”

“Can’t get any better than a cafe. Can I get you anything? Some coffee?”

Neku thought about mentioning that coffee at this time of night would only keep him up until the early hours of dawn, but reasoned that he _did_ want that. He nodded. “House blend, please.”

“Coming right up.” Hanekoma turned from him and started getting a cup ready. Neku sat at one of the tables and pulled out his sketchbook again, flipping to the page he had left for Joshua. He began sketching out the shapes for a table and the backdrop of WildKat--a couple of chairs here, some onlookers there--and finally got around to adding Joshua in, sitting at a table while holding a mug. His mind was so consumed by the drawing that when Hanekoma came back, he nearly jumped out of his seat.

“Nice piece you got there. Is that WildKat?” He set down the coffee by the sketchbook and sat across from Neku, leaning on his fist.

“Haha, yeah… Sorry if I didn’t do it justice.”

“It looks great.”

Neku scratched his head and looked down, his face flushing a bit at the compliment from his hero. “Thanks…”

“So what brings you here? Besides drawing. This is a little out of the way for you, isn’t it?”

“Oh. Uh. I was drawing at Hachiko, and… I just felt like this was a good place to go.”

“That’s it? I can tell something’s eating at you from a mile away.”

Neku blinked. He closed his sketchbook and grabbed the cup of coffee, careful not to burn his hand on the still hot mug. “Now that you mention it… Maybe… That’s not all. Can I talk to you about something?”

“Talk away, Phones.”

The coffee in his hands was a nice distraction while he tried to get his thoughts together. “Um… Bear with me. I know this is a little out of the blue, but… Maybe you’ll know what to do about it.” He took a breath before continuing on. “It’s about Joshua. Well. Not really. Kind of. It’s about Joshua because I keep having nightmares about him. Have been for about a month now. They’re really similar, just little changes sometimes. One is when he sacrificed himself to Minamimoto. Another is when he killed me, the second time. And the last… I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before. It’s Joshua and a man and a woman, talking. And he’s crying and bleeding and then I wake up,” he said, then looked away, realizing he rambled on. “Sorry. That all came out at once.”

Hanekoma had turned his chair around and moved his hand to his chin. “Dreams about Josh, huh?”

“Nightmares.”

“Right, nightmares. Sounds to me like you’re still suffering from the trauma of The Game.”

“Why now though? They’re recent. The Game was over a year ago now.”

“I’ve got two hypotheses. One being that something triggered them. The other being the long term effects of being Josh’s proxy. Can’t say I’m well versed on either subject, but I could do some digging.”

“Great,” Neku groaned.

“Speaking of, have you seen him recently?”

“Who, Josh? As if. I haven’t seen him since he last shot me. Guess I outlived my usefulness to him.”

“Now, now, Phones. I wouldn’t say that. You _are_ the reason he didn’t go through with destroying Shibuya. Even after winning fair and square.”

“And? That sure does mean a lot when he follows that up by severing any and all communication.”

Hanekoma rubbed his chin. “It’s true he hasn’t mentioned you for a while.”

“You still talk to him, right? Can you do me a favor and ask him what the fuck is wrong with him?”

Hanekoma snorted, shaking his head. “If I knew, I’d tell you. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be sure to tell him you miss him.”

“Th-that’s--! That’s not true!” Neku protested. “Not at all!”

That made Hanekoma laugh, loud enough to fill the entire cafe. “Alright, Phones. But that picture of yours suggests otherwise.”

He stood up and headed back behind the counter, still chuckling to himself and shaking his head. “Both of you boys, you’re terrible…”

Neku took a swig of his coffee. Burning his tongue was only one of the many reasons why he’d started to regret coming to WildKat at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: "New York" by Blind Pilot.


	2. Two Zombies Walk in Our Stead

 

_4. Guns. The standoff again. Joshua’s voice is a murmur in the background. I brace myself for the inevitable. He stops talking, his arm moves to aim the gun at my head. Then he freezes. Falters. His eyes widen--it’s as if he’s already shot me. His mouth opens and I know it’ll happen, I know the bullet will pierce through me and I’ll fall, scream, wake up, except. I hear it. His voice. “Neku?” He sounds scared. “How--” Bang. The room is tinted red again. I reach up and feel my forehead; blood clings to my fingers, warm and heavy. When did he shoot me? He turns his attention to his hand, shocked. His arm reaches out, he stumbles, I hit the ground._

Three in the morning. Once again, he’d been awakened by a nightmare. The lamp on his desk gave off a soft light onto the paper, which turned up on the edges. He’d expected nightmares--but not a new one. It wasn’t unusual for the nightmares to feel so real, or for the Joshua he saw in his dreams to show some sort of hint that he knew they weren’t real, but for him to seem so shocked… something wasn’t right about it. His voice still rang in his head, the confusion, the fear, the  _ rawness _ of it all. He didn’t know what to make of it.  _ Maybe I should talk to Mr. H again. He might know what to do. _ Before he’d left from his last visit, Hanekoma had traded phone numbers with him. If that’d even work. Joshua was always calling him during The Game, although that could be explained away with his position as Composer. Even if he could get a message to get through, it was the middle of the night and who knew if he’d even be awake. Or how happy he’d be if he was awoken by a teenager texting him about some nightmare.  _ Talk about lame, _ he thought.

He flipped open his phone, contemplated sending a message, then opted for a draft he’d send in the morning instead. He leaned back in his chair. If he wanted to keep avoiding sleep and the possibility for more nightmares, there wasn’t really much else he could do besides pull out either his laptop or sketchbook. So he decided to grab his pencil and started to doodle.

The sketches weren’t anything special. Just a couple of heads here, a dog or two there. Some more abstract sketches, trying to imitate the pin designs from The Game--even trying to make some of his own. Before long, he’d filled up two pages. He’d intended to do more, to keep going until the first rays of sun peeked through his window, but his persistent drowsiness eventually began to drag him back to sleep. He slumped against his desk, his cheek pressed against the pages of his sketchbook as he drifted off.

_ Click. _

_ Guns. _

_ Joshua smiling. _

_ It was happening again. The Composer of Shibuya stood before him, a harsh grin on his face. Tears touched against Neku’s face--as much as he hated it. It was all so much. Here he was, trapped in the reenactment of the second time Joshua had shot him. “Wake up,” he pleaded to himself. “Wake up. Please.” _

_ “Neku?” _

_ His head snapped up as he turned to Joshua, who was no longer monologuing, and--was he shaking? _

_ “How are you--how did you get here?” _

_ “What..?” _

_ Joshua frowned, then attempted to cover up his fear with a smile. He lifted the gun back up. “When I countdown from ten--” _

_ “What do you mean how did I get here?” _

_ “Nine.” _

_ “Joshua.” _

_ “Eight.” _

_ “ _ Joshua.”

_ “Seven.” _

_ “For fuck’s sake  _ Joshua, _ answer me!” _

_ The Composer faltered. He bit his lip. “You shouldn’t be here.” _

_ Neku opened his mouth in protest when the gun went off. Joshua looked towards his gun, back at Neku, then at his gun again. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, his body screamed, Joshua reached out towards him-- _

He woke up gasping and covered and sweat. His fingers reached for his forehead out of reflex, making sure there wasn’t a bullet hole waiting there to greet him. Once he started to calm down, he sighed: another nightmare. A new addition to it, too. Begrudgingly, he pulled himself off of his sketchbook; the page he had been working on stuck to his face, only releasing its grip when Neku gently pulled on it. The dream journal was right where he’d left it, waiting to be written in. A glance at his phone revealed that, despite the nightmare, he’d been able to sleep a decent five hours. He grabbed his pen, only to remember the existence of the text he’d drafted the night before. He flipped open his phone, clicked send, then set his pen down. Venturing to WildKat seemed the best course of action.

A quick shower and breakfast later and he was out the door. Hanekoma never did respond to him; he figured he’d gotten caught up in work. The cafe should be open regardless--he needed a good amount of caffeine more than anything at the moment. Shibuya was busy as always, and Neku hoped he looked bad enough that no one would give him a second glance or distract him from his mission. He perked up when his phone buzzed in his pocket, expecting Hanekoma to confirm their meetup, but a cheerful text from Eri greeted him instead. Something about wanting to meet up and hang out later in the evening with the group. He figured he’d reply eventually, see just how up he was to it after a sleepless night and after chatting with Hanekoma. 

Just as Neku had suspected, the cafe was barely full. Two teenaged girls--no older than sixteen--were sitting and chatting with each other. One of them kept stealing glances at Hanekoma, who was seated at a nearby table, talking to a companion of his own. Neku squinted, trying to make out who it was--perhaps a date? When the bells chimed and Hanekoma turned to greet him, though, Neku’s heart dropped.

Of course.  _ Of course _ , of all places, this would be the one where he’d run into him.

“Welcome to--ah. Neku.” Hanekoma stood up and glanced to the boy in the seat across from him. Dishwater-blond hair framed his face. He lifted up a hand in response, then turned his attention to Neku.

“Fancy seeing you here,” the familiar voice cooed, showing no sign of surprise.

Neku clenched his fists. Over a year and a half later and there he was, sitting in front of him and acting as if nothing had happened. Joshua. He looked completely unchanged--maybe his hair slightly messier and his expression more ragged--and that all too annoying smirk was plastered onto his face. Hanekoma turned his attention to Neku, and managed to put on a smile as well. “Should’ve told me you were coming.”

“I did. I sent you a text.”

“Oh.” He rubbed his neck. “My bad.”

“Now, now, Sanae. I’m not completely opposed to a reunion.”

Neku glared at him. “Oh yeah? A little late for a happy one, huh?”

“Aw. I missed you too, Neku.” He giggled, stood up from his seat, and approached Neku.

Neku’s arm shot out, hands clenched. His fist connected with Joshua’s face with the sickening sound of flesh on flesh. Joshua stumbled back, surprised by the sudden outlash. He rubbed his cheek. It wasn’t really the plan to end up punching someone today, but Neku figured, of all people, Joshua deserved it the most. Deserved a complete ass kicking, honestly. Although he figured now was not the time or the place for that. The two girls had already hushed themselves and were staring.

Hanekoma looked on, worried for a few seconds, until his worry was replaced with chuckles. “Damn, Josh. He didn’t hold back at all.”

“Ha ha,” he said dryly. “That’s going to leave a bruise…”

“Good,” Neku snapped in reply. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Ignoring me for what, a year and how many months?”

“Eight months and fourteen days, if you want to be precise.”

“Drop the schtick or else you’re getting a matching bruise for your other cheek.”

“My, my. Someone  _ really _ missed me.”

Neku pulled back his arm, ready to wail on the smaller boy in front of him, when Hanekoma jumped in. “Alright. Enough. Both of you. No fighting in my cafe.”

“Tch.”

Joshua resumed rubbing his cheek, then turned away from Hanekoma and returned to his seat. He pulled out his phone and fiddled with it, while simultaneously avoiding any and all eye contact with Neku.

“Can I get you anything to drink, Neku?”

“I should probably just come back later…” Neku glanced over at Joshua. His cheek was already beginning to show a red spot where Neku had hit him, and he was still preoccupied with his phone.

“Nonsense. Besides, seems to me like you and Josh have a lot of catching up to do.”

Neku grimaced. How could he say no? Hanekoma  _ was _ CAT afterall. It wasn’t like he could say no to his hero. “Fine. But I can’t promise I’ll play nice.”

“Now, there’s the Neku we all know and love,” Joshua piped up from his seat. Neku lifted his fist in warning, then took a breath. He needed to not scare away the two girls still watching, or else Hanekoma would scold him for driving away all two of his customers.

“Shut up,” he said, and grabbed the seat adjacent to Joshua, leaving Hanekoma his seat.

“The usual, Phones?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Neku fiddled with his bag. Joshua was eerily quiet next to him, his eyes still focused on his phone. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed.” He closed his phone and smiled at Neku, although it came off as more of a smirk than anything. “I was busy. I do have quite the job, you know.”

“Oh, yeah? I guess it’d take a lot out of me too if I went around killing people to play a game.”

Joshua shrugged. He took a sip his drink, some sort of floral tea from what Neku could gather from the smell. “Those were extenuating circumstances. Plus, you’ve come out of all of this better than ever, wouldn’t you say? I see you have friends now. Your art is very good, too, from what Sanae has told me.”

“That still doesn’t make it okay! Do you know how--wait. Mr. H told you about my art?” Neku’s anger began to be replaced with embarrassment. Great. As if the reunion could’ve gotten any more awkward. Hanekoma had probably gone so far as to tell him that Joshua was the subject of one of his recent drawings--he had no reason not to.

Hanekoma arrived with Neku’s drink, then sat back down. “Hey, it’s a good drawing. From memory, too. You really captured the ‘pretentious asshole’ side of Joshua.”

Joshua rolled his eyes in response, while Neku cracked a smile. “Good. I need people to look at the drawing and think, ‘man, what a dick’.”

“You wound me, Neku!” His tone was playful, his placing his hand over his heart exaggerated. Looking him in the eye, though, and Neku could tell something was off about him. He looked tired. Worn out. Sad?

“And yet, you can’t take your eyes off me.” Joshua giggled, and averted his gaze to his drink.  _ Something’s wrong _ , Neku thought. He shook his head and looked down at his own drink. 

“I’m just shocked you’re still just as much of an ass, even after a year and eight months. And fourteen days.”

“As I said before, I’ve been busy,” he said. “Do you have that picture you drew of me?”

“Way to change the subject,” Neku grumbled. He reached for his bag, then hesitated. He wasn’t really in the mood for Joshua to demean or laugh at his drawing. “It’s, uh. Still rough. So don’t judge.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Mm.” Neku pulled out his sketchbook and flipped to the page with the sketch of Joshua. A few days prior, he’d worked on cleaning it up a bit more, trying to perfect details. Looking at Joshua now, he realized he’d messed up a bit on his hair--dream Joshua tended to have a few less cowlicks than the one sitting before him. “Here.”

Hanekoma leaned over to look as Joshua took the book from him. The both of them studied the picture for a few seconds. A small smile danced across Joshua’s face. “It’s very lovely. I’m surprised at the accuracy, too. You’ve got a talent for this.”

Hanekoma nodded in agreement. “It looks better since I last saw it. Could’ve fooled me it was from memory.”

Neku felt his face flush. “Yeah, well. Thanks.”

Joshua traced over a few of the lines on the picture with his finger. Neku watched him, watched how he kept studying his artwork. A few seconds later and Joshua chuckled, then handed Neku back the sketchbook. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to have this once it’s complete.”

“No. I’m still angry at you.”

“It’s only fair, wouldn’t you say? I  _ am _ the subject of the drawing.” He leaned on his fist.

Neku rolled his eyes. “I’ll think on it. It might take me a while. Give me… two years.”

“Bitterness is a bad look on you.”

“Enough, children. Yeesh,” Hanekoma said while shaking his head.

Neku picked up his mug and blew on the hot coffee inside it. He probably should’ve put some sugar and cream in it--the house blend tended to be strong--but he sipped it regardless. He glanced at Hanekoma. “Um. I actually came here to talk to you about something, Mr. H.”

“Same thing as last time?”

“Yeah.”

Hanekoma leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “Talk away.”

“But Joshua--”

“Is having the exact same problem as you.”

Neku turned to Joshua, just in time to catch his eyes widen at the comment. He moved a hand from his mug to his mouth. “Of course… I should’ve pieced it together. All the same?”

“Some differences. Neku seems to be having one particular dream that you aren’t, and vice versa.”

“I see…” Joshua looked Neku in the eye. There was something gravely serious about the gaze, and Neku turned his attention towards the cafe floor. It was dirty; some muffin crumbs littered the floor by the table adjacent to the group. “So you’re having them too? The nightmares.”

Joshua giggled. “It would seem so.”

“So then last night--”

“Sanae? I’m out of tea,” Joshua said and turned to Hanekoma. Hanekoma hesitated before he took Joshua’s mug and went back behind the counter.

Neku frowned. Joshua’s avoidance was eerily similar to the avoidance of dream Joshua from his last nightmare. “Joshua.”

“Yes, Neku?”

“What’s happening? Just tell me.”

“Well, Sanae’s getting me some more hot water since I’m out of tea. Really Neku, I thought even you could pick up on something so basic.” There was that giggle again. Neku fought the urge to rip out his hair.

“God, would you knock that off? Stop avoiding everything!”

Joshua looked away. He lowered his voice. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

Neku blinked. He always figured Joshua knew everything, being the Composer and all. For him to not know something brought about anxiety more than anything else. “Seriously?”

“No, Neku, it’s a joke.” He said sarcastically, then sighed. “I have no reason to lie about it, so why would I? I’m sure Hanekoma’s told you why he thinks it's happening.”

“Long term effects of being stuck around a priss like you. Or The Game.”

“Very good!” He played with a strand of his hair. His tone of voice wasn’t his usual brand of condescending. Honestly, Neku thought he sounded pathetic. Whatever attempts at covering up that something wasn’t off about him weren’t going very well.

“Here’s your refill, Josh.”

Joshua turned to Hanekoma, visibly relaxing now that his distraction had reappeared. “Sorry to make you get that for nothing, but I really should be going. We’ll have to continue this conversation later. Without Neku. As much as I love the sound of his voice,” he teased.

“Har har.” Neku frowned. “You can talk about it around me. We’re both having the same problem, right? Might as well solve it together.” He ventured a smile at that. It could be like all the mysteries they solved together during their time as partners in The Game. As frustrating as Joshua was, running around town solving ramen fights and cases like the missing microphone were a welcome break from the constant rush of beating missions on time. And he and Joshua made a good team--although Neku would be hard pressed before he admitted that out loud.

“Hee hee. A charming proposition. I’ll have to decline for now though. Like I said, I have to get going. Busy busy.” He grabbed his phone and stood up.

Neku watched as he made his way to the door. He stood up and grabbed Joshua’s sleeve before he could make his escape. Joshua stiffened. “Hey. Can we uh… Can we at least talk again soon?” He let go of Joshua’s sleeve and rubbed his own arm. “It was uh. Nice talking to you again. I missed you.” Neku decided he’d regret mentioning that at all later--he was more concerned with preventing another year long silence from the Composer, from losing his friend right after finally finding him again.

Joshua hesitated in front of the door. He giggled. “No promises.” And with that, he left. As soon as he exited, he disappeared, his thin frame no longer visible in the Realground.

Neku stood still for a few seconds, clenching his fists. “How can he be that casual about it all? Like--like he doesn’t even  _ care _ we haven’t seen each other.”

Hanekoma had taken Joshua’s seat and was playing with the tea bag in his mug. The tag on the it read “Earl Grey”. “Listen, Phones. It’s not that. He’s had a lot on his plate.”

“But  _ still _ .”

“The kid’s exhausted. Just like you. Plus he’s been in a bit of trouble, what with the circumstances of The Game you played.”

“He could’ve said something,” he muttered.

Hanekoma smiled at him. “Man, you really  _ did _ miss him.”

Neku blushed. Leave it to Hanekoma to be so blunt. “Yeah, so what? He’s my friend. Of course I’d miss him.”

Hanekoma laughed, grabbed Neku’s now empty cup and headed behind the counter once again. “I’ll give you his number. But I’m warning you, he’s going to push back to you trying to talk to him again.”

“Why?”

“You’ll have to ask him that yourself, Phones.” He returned with a slip of paper, which had a phone number written on it in handwriting that resembled the writing on CAT’s graffiti. “I’ll get you to pay me back for the chewing out he’s going to give me later.”

“Deal. Thanks, Mr. H.”

“Hey, no problem.” He smiled.

Neku scratched his head. “Speaking of Josh. Is he okay? You said he has a lot on his plate, but it’s really weird to see him so… subdued. The avoidance isn’t new, but…”

“Who knows. He hasn’t said anything specific. I’ve just assumed it’s stress. Being Composer isn’t exactly a walk in the park.” He took the tea bag out of the mug and placed it onto the table, ignoring the small puddle that formed under it. “Anyway. You came here to talk to me again, right? New dream developments?”

“Yeah. Joshua talked to me. I never hear him speak, usually. Guess it makes sense now, since, you know, he’s having the same dreams.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “And he’s so frazzled. When we talked, he… He seemed scared. I still get shot, but he’s not the one who shoots me. It just happens.”

“Interesting…” Hanekoma continued messing with the tea bag, picking it up and twirling it, occasionally dunking it back into the water that had to be lukewarm by now. “It’s definitely a problem with being Joshua’s proxy, then. You two having the same dreams makes that clear. A sort of encroaching into each other’s subconsciousness, I’d guess.”

“Even though that was almost two years ago?”

“It’s probably been a progressive thing.”

“So Joshua’s taking over my subconscious? That’s pleasant.”

“Oh, it’s more than that.” Another plop. The table was becoming increasingly wet. “You’re encroaching on his, too.”

“How is that even possible?”

“You’re stronger than you think, Phones. He chose you for a reason.” He stood up and grabbed the mug. “We’ll talk more later, alright? I have some things to take care of. I’ll put the coffee on your tab.” He headed towards the counter. Neku couldn’t help but notice the coffee stains on his vest. “Oh, and, hey. Clean up that mess you made.”

Neku grumbled. Now Hanekoma was pulling a Joshua. He did give him credit for a more graceful exit. As Hanekoma disappeared into the back, he looked down at the table, realizing it was soaked. “Hey, wait!  _ You  _ made this mess!”

“Sorry, didn’t catch that!” He called from the back of the cafe. Neku sighed, grabbed a stack of napkins, then began mopping up the fragrant tea.

\---

Five minutes later and Neku was back out on the streets of Shibuya. He pulled out his phone. Two more messages from Eri, and one from Shiki. Shiki’s was nearly identical to the one Eri had sent earlier about meeting up. Eri’s, on the other hand, were plastered with angry emojis and complaints about Neku’s non-response. He shook his head and typed out a brief “ok” to Eri, then typed in the number Hanekoma had given him.

Joshua could try and hide from him all he wanted, but Neku knew he’d have to give in eventually. And if needed, he’d get Hanekoma to get the stubborn boy to cooperate.

His phone buzzed. Eri again, this time with a much happier response than the last few messages. Paired with a selfie of her and Shiki.

He smiled to himself. “Tonight at eight. Hachiko. You’re coming, right?”

His finger hovered the send button. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, to get his hopes up, only to end up disappointed again.

A cyclist passed by him, snapping him out of his thoughts. The two girls from the cafe walked out and glanced at him, then giggled. One of them was nibbling on a muffin. Her brown hair would occasionally stick to her face, thanks to the light breeze. Her friend pulled her along, headed to some destination Neku didn’t know.

He pressed send.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: "Phantom Limb" by The Shins.
> 
> Thanks for all the kind comments from the last chapter! They all mean a lot!


	3. Us Two, Not the Same People Our Friends Knew

Eight came and went, and Neku ended up feeling the sting of disappointment when Joshua was, once again, a no show. Any hope that he’d come faded when even Beat and Rhyme showed up--fifteen minutes late--and there was still no response to his earlier text. His mood soured, it was hard to get as excited as his friends when Beat suggested they go to a karaoke box. Eri, Rhyme, and Beat walked ahead, chattering about which songs to sing and placing bets on who would be the best singer. Eri insisted no one was better than Shiki, while Beat loudly proclaimed his duet with Rhyme would be heartwarming _and_ on par with professional singers. Neku fiddled with his phone, a couple of steps behind them, absorbed in his thoughts until Shiki tapped his shoulder.

“Neku? You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure? You’re being quieter than normal.”

“Yeah, it’s just--I invited a friend to come along and, well, he obviously didn’t.” He flipped his phone open. “He didn’t even reply.”

Shiki touched her finger to her lips. “I’m sorry, that’s never fun. Is he a new friend? Maybe he’s just being shy.”

“Yeah, no, he’s not a new friend. He’s just a dick.” He stuffed his phone into his pocket. He _could_ tell Shiki he was talking about Joshua--she’d find out soon enough anyway. Did she even remember The Game at this point, or that Joshua was the Composer, and not just his second week partner? He trusted Shiki though, more so than anyone. “Do you remember Joshua?”

“Joshua?” She blinked. “ _That_ Joshua? I thought you guys had a falling out.”

If Shiki did know about his role as Composer, she wouldn’t be so calm at the mention of Joshua’s name. It was for the best, really. Her few interactions with him weren’t exactly pleasant. Any memories would be of the Room of Reckoning, right before… Well, before Joshua shot him. Remembering their final moments in The Game would just make Shiki suspicious of Joshua--if she ever did see him again.

“Kinda? He just dropped off the face of the earth. Until today. I ran into him at a cafe. Mr. H’s cafe.” He crossed his arms. “Nothing’s changed. He’s just as avoidant as usual. I mean, obviously, if he won’t even show up here.”

“Maybe he’s got things to do?”

“Too busy to say something?” He grumbled.

Shiki giggled. “Oh, Neku. I think you’re looking too much into this.”

_I really don’t think I am_ , Neku thought.

“If he’s busy, all you can do is be patient! I’m sure you’ll hear something.” She put her hand to her cheek. “But wow, to reconnect after so long… He probably just doesn’t know what to say, either. Something happened between you two, right? It’s probably a little awkward.”

“Hah. You mean besides him being insufferable? Disappearing? Making me think I wouldn’t ever see him again? That’s something all right.”

“And you still want to see him after all of that?”

“I--” Neku paused. She did have a point. For all his complaining, he still felt the need to see Joshua. To talk with him, snarky conversations and all. To just… Be friends. “He’s the worst, but he’s still my friend. He’s done a lot for me. Of course I’d want to see him.” He looked away. “Doesn’t make him less of an ass.”

“Aw, Neku.” Another giggle. “That’s cute. I hope you two make up.”

“It’s--! It’s not cute! And you’re making it sound like we’re dating!” Neku snapped.

“Hey, slowpokes! Hurry up!” Eri called from ahead. Beat and Rhyme had stopped in front of a storefront; Towa Records could be seen a few stores down. Did they really walk that far already? Neku hadn’t been paying enough attention to notice.

“We better hurry,” Shiki said, and he nodded in agreement.

Once the group entered and rented a room--after pooling their money together--Eri and Shiki sat next to each other. Beat and Rhyme were already working on picking a song, while Neku sat across from both Eri and Shiki. The room was comfortable; faux-leather cushions surrounded a stylish brown table. A potted plant sat in the middle of the table, with glasses neatly placed in front of each seat. Beat and Rhyme were still chattering over which song to sing first--Beat was insisting on some foreign song, while Rhyme timidly reminded him his English wasn’t the best. A quick glance over to Eri and Shiki, and Neku caught Eri wrapping her arm around Shiki’s waist.

“E-Eri, not here!” Shiki whispered to her, then blushed when she noticed Neku watching. “Neku, stop staring!”

Neku laughed. It was nice hanging out with the four of them. After Beat and Rhyme’s debut, Eri volunteered to step up to the stage. She’d tried to get Shiki to come along, only for her to refuse and insist that she needed more time to calm down her nerves before she did so. About halfway into their session, Neku finally decided to join in on the party--under the condition that Shiki sang with him. Eri was right--Shiki was really good at singing. While shy and quiet at first, once she finally warmed up she managed to perform a solo that had Beat in tears by the end. He swore he wasn’t crying--he just had some dust in his eye.

Through Beat and Rhyme’s passionate singing--”passionate” meaning loud on Beat’s end--to Neku and Beat’s duet to “YMCA” at the end of their session, he ended up enjoying himself more than he initially thought he would. When they exited, Rhyme, Shiki, and Eri were all giggling at the video Eri had taken of Beat and Neku.

“I can’t believe you recorded that trainwreck,” Neku said.

“Uh, duh? It’s a masterpiece! I bet I could put it on YouTube and you two would be an overnight sensation.”

“Yeah, Phones! We should start a band!” Beat chimed in. “Go ‘round the world, pick up some chicks, get tons of dough…”

“Pass. That’d maybe work as a comedy routine, but not a band.”

Rhyme giggled. “Either way, you’d be popular.”

“See! Rhyme gets it!”

Neku rolled his eyes in response. “Anyway. Don’t you guys have a curfew? It’s getting kind of late.”

“Oh, snap, we do! Le’s book it, Rhyme!”

They both waved in response. Beat hopped on his skateboard, with Rhyme following suit on her own, smaller skateboard.

“We should get going too. It wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me to keep Shiki out late,” Eri teased.

“Eri, knock it off! You’ve already embarrassed me enough in front of Neku for one day!” Shiki blushed and turned away from both of them. She messed with her hands. “She’s right though, I should be going too. We’ll have to do this again soon.”

“Definitely.”

“Oh, and let me know how everything turns out with Joshua.”

“Who?” Eri asked.

“It’s nothing. I’ll see you two later.” Neku replied, hoping she wouldn’t pry the details out of Shiki on their way back home.

“You’re telling me later!” Eri said, then hooked her arm around Shiki’s. “I’m super good at sorting through drama.”

“More of like gossip. And it’s _not_ drama.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Eri waved her hand, then started walking away, arm still linked with Shiki.

“Bye, Neku! We’ll talk later!”

Neku watched as the two of them walked away, giggling. Eri would probably try and pry any information she could about his situation from Shiki, but Shiki had always been good at keeping his drama secret. Not like this was drama in the first place. He refused to even think of it that way. It was nothing more than Joshua being Joshua, and the situation between them being complicated.

As Shiki and Eri faded into the crowd, Neku decided to head back to his apartment as well. It was late enough that both his parents would be home, but he figured they’d let him retreat to his room peacefully. Neither of his parents were much for talking--both were busy with work, and when they weren’t working, they were tired. Neku didn’t mind; he could handle being left alone. The only times they would bother him were if his grades started to slip, and Neku managed to avoid letting them get low enough to warrant a scolding.

“Neku? There’s leftovers in the fridge,” his mother called from the kitchen as Neku walked through the front door. He slipped off his shoes.

“Mm. Thanks. I think I’m going to turn in though. I’m pretty worn out.”

“Oh, alright. Did you at least eat?”

“Yeah.” He hadn’t actually, but if he ate then, he’d end up falling asleep and with a face covered with soup. “Night.”

“Sleep well.”

When he reached his room, Neku fell onto his bed. Being fully clothed was just enough to keep him from knocking out on the spot, but not enough to give him the energy to get ready for bed. He opted for staring at his ceiling instead. When he was a child, he’d pressed glow in the dark stars onto the ceiling--most had long fallen off by then, but a few stray stars still clung on. Maybe he’d put more on, even if he did think it was a little silly. The lights of the city blocked out most of the actual stars, and having cheap replacements to look at were the closest he could get as a kid. He decided to look into finding some if he remembered the next day. Or better yet, he could suggest going to the countryside with Shiki, Beat, Rhyme, and Eri to see the real deal--maybe even make a day of it by going to the beach.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft buzz of his phone in his pocket, and he bolted upright. “Don’t get excited,” he muttered to himself. “It’s probably just Shiki or Eri.” Still, his heart insisted on pounding in his chest, and he cursed himself for being so worked up over the possibility of a reply from Joshua.

He grabbed his phone, only to almost drop it when he read the name on the screen. The pounding intensified.

“How’d you get this number? Did Mr. H give it to you?” Joshua had replied, and Neku scrunched his nose. It was probably too much to expect him to respond any other way.

Another buzz. “Sorry to disappoint, but I really don’t have the time to be playing around with you and your friends. Some of us have responsibilities.”

Now he was getting frustrated. Exhaustion had made him grumpy, and Joshua’s texts were making him grumpier.

“Thanks for your timely response.” He tapped out, then hesitated. He had to somehow keep the conversation going. “Is there a Game this week?”

A few minutes passed before the next buzz came, and he was surprised when it ended up being a phone call instead of a text. He answered it. “Why’d you call?”

“It’s easier than texting,” Joshua said. “You sound exhausted. Shouldn’t you be asleep? You know, it’s recommended that teenagers get eight to ten hours of sleep, and I doubt you’ve been getting that much, judging from the way you looked today.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You can’t blame me for your problems, Neku. That’ll turn into a nasty habit.” He giggled, and Neku knew he had to be smirking. “To answer your earlier question, yes, there’s a Game this week. Hence why I’m busy. I have to keep an eye on things.”

“Getting back to what you’re good at, huh? Putting people through hell?”

“Why, yes! You’ve got me pegged for the dastardly villain I am. So very sharp of you, Neku!”

Neku rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help grinning at the comment. A semi-normal conversation between the two of them was nice--even though Neku was still mad at him. “Anyway. You owe me. This is twice now you’ve been a no-show at Hachiko. Not to mention what you pulled earlier today. You like ramen, right? Let’s get some once you’re done with this Game.”

There was a long pause. It wasn’t like Joshua to be so silent, and Neku began to regret suggesting anything in the first place. “You don’t have to--”

“Sunday night?” He sounded hesitant.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, that should work for me.”

“Then it’s a date.” Another one of Joshua’s signature giggles rang in Neku’s ears.

“Ugh, don’t say it like that. And you’re buying. Like I said, you owe me.”

“I honestly don’t see how I ‘owe’ you anything, but if that will get you to stop whining, then I suppose I can pay. Plan on meeting at Ramen Don. I’ll let you know the time,” he said, and did he sigh too? Neku couldn’t quite tell. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to get back to, as you would say, ruining people’s lives. Ta-ta!”

“Hey, I don’t whine--!” Before Neku could defend himself, Joshua had hung up. He stared at his phone, wondering if he would really go through with the plan, or if it would be a bust. He could just end up disappointed again--Joshua did have quite the track record--but he couldn’t help the twinge of excitement that was already starting to bubble up.

Maybe the nightmares would be a little more bearable that night.

\---

There are two things to know about being Composer. The first is the rules and responsibilities that come with the job. Not only does it require an unbiased view of humanity--you can’t play favorites when it comes to judgement day--it’s also a considerably hands off process. Orders for The Game are issued, the Conductor carries them out, and by the end the Composer himself decides who lives, who didn’t make the cut, and who joins the ranks of the Reapers. The basic rules, of course, are also set up by the Composer. The Underground hinges on his maintenance of it, and without The Underground, humanity stagnates. The Composer cannot afford to get distracted.

Along with this, The Composer is generally restricted to contact with only two people: his Conductor and the Producer. Most other reapers are too low of a vibe to even comprehend the Composer in his true form--the same goes for Players of The Game. His Conductor acts as a mouthpiece to enact his will; should he choose, however, he can downtune his vibe (thus, restricting his powers) to commune with other Reapers or visit the Realground. This is considered pointless, as he can observe perfectly well from Underground and through his Conductor.

Secondly, the job of Composer is one of isolation. Because of the limited contact with Players, humans, and Reapers alike, the Composer is considered to be at the optimum position to judge the people of his realm. Aside from that, staying around anyone below the Conductor proved dangerous--the differences in vibe could prove to be overwhelming for anyone around him for too long, and destabilize their Soul. To combat this isolation, each Composer of each Reapers’ Game is, in a way, one with their city. Once again, this provides the optimum position to judge its inhabitants. The wants and changes of the city are that of the Composer--both work together in order to foster the continued growth of humanity, both refining the Imaginations of those with who had their overflowing potential cut short. Hence, the main reason of The Game itself; a complicated machine that, while some would argue morally ambiguous at best, is in fact a powerful force of good for humanity as a whole.

The Composer of Shibuya, however, had caught the attention of the Higher Plane through his actions during The Long Game. Before The Long Game, he’d had a reputation for his unique yet efficient Game, and most critique had come from Hanekoma alone. Since The Long Game, however, his rash decisions prompted the Higher Plane to hand down consequences for his actions. Joshua wasn’t quite sure what they all were, aside from a harsh scolding and a closer eye kept on how his Game was now run. One step out of line and one of Hanekoma’s associates would show themselves, ready with a lecture and a forced restriction of his powers. And that was before word of his situation involving Neku had reached them.

Neku was already a subject of talk with Hanekoma and the Higher Plane, due to the power of his Imagination. Hanekoma had told Joshua as much. Their relationship as Composer and proxy was of even more interest--there’d never been anything like it before, and any side effects that arose from it were being studied as intently as possible, much to Joshua’s annoyance. And he knew Hanekoma was in on it, as well.

It was only a matter of time before Neku showed back up at WildKat, and Joshua was prepared for that. Once the nightmares popped up, he’d gone to Hanekoma, and he figured that if anything similar was happening to Neku, he would do the same. He wasn’t prepared for Hanekoma to freely give out his number to him, or for Neku to pursue associating with him again.

“Anyway. You owe me. This is twice now you’ve been a no-show at Hachiko. Not to mention what you pulled earlier today. You like ramen, right? Let’s get some once you’re done with this Game.”

Joshua was prepared to shoot down the idea right away. There was no way he was seeing Neku more than he had to--for a plethora of reasons. Not only would he get in trouble for messing around in the RG, but… He still didn’t understand Neku’s insistence to see him. He should hate him, should despise him, should realize that hanging around Joshua was overwhelming. And yet, hearing his voice, Joshua could feel it. Neku’s pleas to just _see_ him. To talk with him. To get straight answers. It was almost as if he was imprinting on the Composer himself, but that wasn’t possible… As far as he knew.

“You don’t have to--”

“Sunday night?”

He should’ve said no, ended the idea right there, but he couldn’t. Not when Neku sounded like that. Not when something inside him, too, tugged on him. So he made plans. At the very least, it’d be nice to do something other than brief his Conductor on when the next Game would take place, or discuss the outcome of the current Game with Hanekoma. And it’d appease Neku, who seemed determined to see him. For whatever reason.

After hanging up, he slumped on his chair--throne, really--and leaned on his fist. The Game was winding down for the day; Players were being transferred to where they would start the next day, Reapers being told goals, and reports of any erasures being filed. Any moment now a report would come in from the Conductor, and he should stay up to read it. But he was tired. The nightmares were taxing on him as well, and combined with watching over The Game and having to deal with his angelic supervisors--who always were breathing down his neck--the one thing he wanted was to tune out for one night and ignore it all.

He typed out a message to his Conductor, explaining how he was turning in early for the night and how he would look over the report first thing in the morning, before Players awoke and before the mission mail arrived. Slowly, he retreated to his room behind the Room of Reckoning. It was small, really only containing a bed, a desk, and a bookshelf jammed with hardcover books. Designs for pins and plans for Games littered the desk--he hadn’t gotten around to cleaning up recently.

Neku had gone to sleep. He could tell, and he knew he’d be dreaming soon. Not long after Joshua would join him, trapped in whatever dream decided to torment them that night. Hanekoma had said there’d been differences in the dreams. He could only wonder what things Neku saw when their dreams didn’t quite line up, what things his own subconscious mind would reveal to his proxy.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: Attention All Pickpockets by The Mountain Goats
> 
> Thank you again for all of the lovely comments! They all make me tear up a little. <3


	4. Once, I Dreamt I Wasn't Far Away From You

Ramen Don was crowded--Neku had expected it to be a little quieter on a Sunday night. He looked around; a family chattered at one of the tables lined up along the wall, along with a group of foreigners who were laughing at some joke in a language Neku didn’t understand. Men slurping their noodles took up most of the bar stools, while Ken Doi chatted with one of them about one of his self-proclaimed “great new ideas.” Joshua wasn’t anywhere in sight--Neku didn’t think he was someone who was anything but punctual--so he sat down at an open bar seat and placed his bag down on the seat next to him.

“Neku, good to see you!” Ken walked over. “It’s been a while, huh? What can I get you?”

“Hi, Mr. Doi.” He smiled a bit at the friendly owner. “Can I get one shoyu and one shio?”

“Sure thing. Meeting someone here?”

“Yeah. A friend. We’re catching up.”

“That’s always nice. I’ll get your order started.” He gave Neku a smile, then went and chatted with a few other customers on his way to his various pots and pans. Neku was fond of the plucky ramen cook--ever since spending so much time in his shop with Joshua, it became one of his favorite spots to people watch and draw. Sometimes, he’d try and pick out if any of the groups present were Reapers or Players--he was sure he’d seen at least two pairs of Players once, from the way they talked and the pins that adorned their clothes and bags. He had been tempted to say something to them--to wish them luck, or to tell them some tips on staying alive until the end of the week--but kept quiet and sketched them out instead. Since, he’d kept an eye out for them, hoping they made it through their week.

Neku pulled out his sketchbook, then tapped his pencil against a blank sheet. Right as he started to begin a sketch of the man two seats down from him--a tired-looking salaryman--someone moved his bag onto the floor and sat next to him.

“Drawing again? Is it me?”

Neku rolled his eyes. “No. Unless you’re a middle aged man in a business suit.” He stopped sketching and turned to the seat next to him. “What took you so long?”

_"I’m_ right on time. You were early.” Joshua shrugged. “I told you to be here twenty minutes ago, right? And you’ve been here since the fifteen minute mark.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Please, Neku. It’s my city. Of course I’d know where my dear ex-partner was, and when.”

Neku turned his attention back to his drawing. “Coming off a little creepy there, Josh.” The salaryman’s face started to take shape, turned to the side and staring into what would eventually be his ramen bowl. “So, finished up with your _all important_ duties?”

Joshua leaned on the edge of the bar in front of them; his head rested on one hand as he watched Neku draw. “Not quite. I still have reports to file and debriefing to do. Plus, I have to meet with Sanae, begin planning for the next Game…” He twirled a curl of his hair around his finger. “You should’ve seen the reports I had to file after the Long Game. Now _that_ was a disaster.”

“That’s your own fault,” Neku scoffed.

“I suppose so, yes. Have you ordered?”

“Oh, yeah. I got you shio. That’s your favorite, right?”

Neku looked up from his drawing when Joshua didn’t respond right away, and managed to catch him smiling--a soft, genuine smile. Joshua noticed, coughed, then quickly covered it with a smirk. “Aw, Neku! You remembered.”

Perhaps it was too much to ask of Joshua for him to respond to anything without a smirk. Neku gently shoved his arm and grumbled. “You’re still paying.”

“Of course. I’m a man of my word.”

The two fell into silence, with Joshua watching Neku as he continued to sketch the salaryman at the end of the bar. Neku couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious with Joshua’s gaze on him. He put down his pencil. “So uh… How did this last Game go?”

Joshua raised an eyebrow. “Why the sudden interest? I recall you saying my Game ‘royally sucks.’”

“It does. I’m just making conversation.”

“If you really want to know, it was a fairly standard Game. A small group survived, a few became Reapers, and one was brought back to life,” he said. “Honestly, we need more Reapers. And the two who just joined seemed promising. I’m looking forward to see how they develop.”

“Mm. Got a new Conductor yet? Seeing as how you killed your last one.”

“Now, now. Killed is a strong word.” Joshua moved his hand onto his chin. “Besides, Megumi knew the deal. If he lost, he’d be erased. That was a part of our Game. I didn’t do anything that he didn’t already agree to,” he said, and looked down at Neku’s drawing. “But yes, I do have a sort of… Interim Conductor. You know him, actually.”

“Really? Who is it?”

“Do you remember Yodai Higashizawa? He was Game Master during your first week. He’s temporarily filling in the position. And I must say, he’s doing a fairly good job of it, too.”

“Higashi-- _Ram-crotch_? Him? But we erased him!” Flashbacks to his first week in the game filled Neku’s head. Fighting with Shiki, almost killing her… Helping her overcome her jealousy and finally facing off with Ram-crotch himself--dodging large fists and lightning bolts from above as Shiki fought in the other plane.

“That you did. And the little sister of that friend of yours--Rhyme, was it?--she was erased by Noise, too, and yet…” A smirk crossed his face. “Erasure isn’t exactly final, Neku.”

Ken came back with two large bowls of ramen. “Here you are! Oh, and your friend is here too! Been awhile since I’ve seen you.”

“Nice to see you again too, mister. Your ramen is still some of the best I’ve had to date.” Joshua picked up his chopsticks. Scents of salt, vegetables, and chicken drifted into Neku’s nose and made his stomach growl. Ken smiled at the both of them. “Dig in. And let me know what you think!”

Neku nodded at him, slipped his sketchbook into his bag, and picked up his own chopsticks. “Thanks, will do.” He grabbed a hearty amount of noodles and stuffed them into his mouth, paying no mind to the broth that he flung at Joshua. Joshua scrunched his face in disgust. “Really, Neku, could you try and act civil?”

“Nope. Too hungry.”

The ramen--although simple--was good, as per usual. Neku was hungrier than he thought; he slowed down only to avoid burning his tongue on the hot noodles. He looked over at Joshua, who was still holding his chopsticks over his bowl, his food untouched. “Hey, are you going to eat?”

Joshua’s eyes narrowed. “Actually, I need to get going. Important business.”

“...What? Are you flaking out _again?_  But--”

“Aw, I know you want to spend some quality time with me, but really, I should be on my way.”

Neku glared at him. Joshua had already stood up and turned towards the door.

“Would you _stop?_  Just tell me what’s so important you have to leave. There’s no Game. You said all you have to do is paperwork. What’s going on?” He pushed himself up and moved in front of Joshua. A few of the men at the bar turned their attention towards them, and Neku made a mental note to try and avoid making a scene. “You can tell me.”

Joshua slid money onto the table and sighed. “Fine. If you insist on pestering me about it, I’ll tell you. But later. I need to leave. I should’ve left a minute ago, but _someone’s_ throwing a fit and blocking my way.”

“Damn right I am! You’re not leaving. Not again.” He frowned, and hoped the desperation he felt didn’t show in his voice. If Joshua slipped away, there was no way Neku would be able to pry the information out of him later.

Purple eyes met his own. Their intensity caused his breath to hitch, forcing him to look away. A cold hand grabbed his wrist, and before he could react further, Joshua dragged him towards the exit--he barely had enough time to grab onto his bag. “H-hey, what about our food?”

“I paid. Let’s get going.” Joshua said as he marched towards the exit. Neku followed along, confused. Ken protested as they left; he’d have to apologize the next time he came in. He decided instead to focus his eyes on their hands; Joshua’s hand, thin and pale, gripped right above his own wrist. Did it always look so fragile? He’d never paid enough attention to notice just how… _weak_ Joshua looked. Even now, it was hard for him to believe that the boy pulling him along was the Composer of Shibuya. Hanekoma had told him something once: that the Joshua he knew wasn’t his Composer form, but instead a form brought about from downtuning his vibe--whatever that meant.

“Care to explain where we’re going?”

“Sh.” Joshua looked around. He’d brought them past Scramble Crossing and up Center Street; the lights of nearby stores glowing and painting his face various colors. A couple holding an umbrella walked past them. “We should be--”

“Safe? You act like I’m hunting you down.”

Joshua stiffened. Neku looked around, unsure of where the unfamiliar voice was coming from. A figure leaning against a streetlight caught his attention--were they there before? They stood up and started to approach; the hand on Neku’s wrist tightened its grip, but let go as soon as the figure was clear enough to make out in the light.

“Arielle. Fancy seeing you here,” Joshua said, the usual snark in his voice absent.

“I came to check up on why the Composer was in the RG,” the figure, Arielle, replied in a cool and measured voice. They pushed a large ponytail over their shoulder--dusty indigo hair bounced and swayed until settling on their back. “Care to explain?”

“I was hungry, so I decided to get ramen with a friend. Surely that’s nothing to be concerned about?”

Arielle stepped closer, and Neku noticed they were taller than Joshua; their green eyes moved from him, to Neku, and back to Joshua. Their clothes were simple--a pair of shorts and a short sleeve shirt with dot-patterned sleeves. Something about the sharpness of their face and expression sent chills up his spine. “Your friend… I see. Neku, right? I’ve heard many, many, things about you. It’s nice to formally meet you.” They smiled. Their hand, long and elegant, extended towards Neku.

“...Nice to meet you.” Hesitantly, he shook it.

Joshua’s gaze bore into Arielle, who ignored him. “You see, I’m sort of… A babysitter to your friend here. He has quite the reputation, so I’ve been sent to keep him in line.” They smiled at Joshua. The hostility in Joshua’s eyes was almost palpable in the air around the three of them; he grabbed Neku’s wrist once more.

“Yes, well, I’m not up to anything aside from visiting. So if you’ll excuse us--”

“I’m keeping an eye on you, Kiryu. No funny business.” They turned on their heel, hair whipping around them as they did so. “Don’t forget to file your report, either. I expect that by the morning.”

“Of course.”

“And Neku, I’m sure we’ll see each other around.” They chuckled. A small burst of light obscured Neku’s vision for a moment. When he could see again, two sharp, white feathers stuck up in the ground from where Arielle had been standing.

Joshua’s grasp on Neku’s wrist slackened, then disappeared altogether. “Always one for an exit, aren’t they…” He walked towards the feathers, only for them to shatter and dissipate the moment he reached his hand towards them.

“What was that all about?”

“That would be Arielle.” His fingers ran through his hair. “They’ve been dying to actually meet you. Plus they love getting under my skin. Killed two birds with one stone.”

“Someone getting under your skin? Now that’s news.”

Joshua gave an over-exaggerated shrug and headed down the street. “I don’t like the way they’re always breathing down my neck. It’s quite grating, really. Not to mention they’re in cahoots with Sanae.”

“Mr. H? Really?” Neku followed after him. Light raindrops tapped against his skin as the two of them walked back towards Scramble Crossing. “How does he know them?”

“How indeed?” Like a switch had been flipped, Joshua was back to his smirky self. “Ask him yourself. Are you still hungry? I’d like to get out of this rain.”

Neku almost complained about the subject change. Almost. Before he could, his stomach reminded him that he was, in fact, still hungry. He didn’t exactly care for the rain, either, and it was only getting heavier. “Yeah, I am. I didn’t get a chance to finish my ramen. Because _someone_ dragged me away from it.”

“Honestly, you should be thanking me. I was trying to keep Arielle away from you, but you just had to come and stick your nose in my business. You know, nosiness isn’t considered to be good etiquette.” He changed his direction, veering away from the scramble. Neku began to regret not watching the weather report--he would’ve brought an umbrella otherwise. “Keep whining and my goodwill might run out before we get to our destination.”

“And where exactly is that?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

Joshua led him towards an apartment building, one that wasn’t far from his own. Umbrellas filled the street, which was significantly quieter than the usual roar of voices present during the daytime. Occasionally, Joshua pointed out some obscure landmark or piece of art, then rattled off facts about the artists to Neku. He pretended to be interested--to tell the truth, he did find the artist facts intriguing--but was more worried about his sketchbook getting ruined from the warm rain seeping through his bag.

“Here we are,” Joshua said once they reached the apartment complex. Plants decorated the entrance; Neku’s focus shifted as soon as he spotted the Reaper decal plastered on the front gate.

“What the hell is _that_ doing there?”

“Reaper’s need a place to call home, too, Neku.” He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the gate. “Where else do you think they go on off weeks?”

“I dunno, Reaperland? Where everyone is dead and murderous?”

“Hee hee. Close.” Joshua led Neku into the building; doors lined a long hallway decorated with low-lit lamps and the occasional vase filled with fake flowers. “Most come here. Some have other housing accommodations, but for those who don’t, we provide them with a place to stay.”

“So why’re we here?”

“I have a sort of… Vacation apartment here. Plus, it’s closer than my actual place. Comes in handy from time to time.” He smiled. “The only person who knows about it is Sanae, assuming he hasn’t told Arielle. I trust he’ll leave me my one sanctuary, though. Unless he wants to drive me off to other universes.”

“Has that happened before?” Neku snorted. “That’s kinda dramatic, even for you.”

“It happened during our Game. Where else do you think I went when Sho fired that flare?” He stopped in front of a door, typed in a code, then held the door open. “You should’ve seen the Neku of the universe I escaped to. Didn’t have that sombre attitude of yours. You know, he seemed to get along quite well with the Joshua of that universe, too. A chipper little group of friends,” he said, his voice quieting towards the end.

“Hey, you could be in our group, but that’s your own fault. I’ve invited you plenty of times.” He walked in. Prints of CAT’s art were hung up around the walls, along with a few other pieces of art. A white couch sat in the small living room adjacent to the equally small kitchen; pots and pans sat in the sink. By the couch was a sleek coffee table upon which a few books were placed, along with a picture frame. Joshua silently followed after Neku, only making noise when he started digging around the pantry.

“You’ve got a lot of CAT’s art here, huh?” Neku wandered to the couch and sat down, realizing just how soaked he was when he leaned against the soft fabric. His clothes were heavy and damp against his skin, the humidity in the air made them feel even heavier.

“Sanae put that up. He said the walls were too bland without them. I suppose he’s right. They certainly give the place a little bit more life.” He pulled out two packets of instant ramen and set them on the counter. “There’s more here than I remember. And looking at the dirty dishes in the sink, I’d say he was here fairly recently himself.”

Neku slouched against the couch. He wasn’t really surprised that Hanekoma would have access to the apartment--from what he remembered of the Shibuya river, CAT’s art seemed to be everywhere. It only made sense that he’d also hang around in Joshua’s “vacation” apartment. He still wasn’t quite sure of the full extent of their relationship--only that they were close and Joshua had known him since before he died and became composer. Assuming what Hanekoma had told him was true.

He turned his attention to the coffee table in front of him. Dust covered the books sitting on top of it--the book on top was titled “Reminiscence of Shibuya” with an old-timey photo on the cover. Next to the books was an equally dusty picture frame, lined with golden edges and a photo of a man and a woman inside. He scooted closer to get a better look. The woman was wearing a long, elegant dress--lace edged her sleeves and collar, while pearls decorated her neck. Her hair cascaded over her shoulder in loose waves; in a few places, it would curl. She was smiling, her eyes focused on the camera. The man next to her seemed more rigid, dressed in a suit and tie, dark hair cropped tightly. His hands were gloved and held in front of him. The picture, like the one on the book, seemed old: colorless and faded, with some creases from previous folding.

Joshua sat next to him, startling Neku. He handed him a warm bowl, then looked at the picture himself. “You’d think Sanae would have the common courtesy to dust after visiting and leaving dirty dishes in the sink, but no, of course not.” He sighed, handing Neku a pair of chopsticks.

“Who’s that a picture of? It looks pretty old.”

“Hm? Oh. My parents.” He shrugged, then stirred his chopsticks around his bowl. “That was taken around when they got married. July 18th, 1953. Saturday. Apparently, the weather was lovely.” He twirled some noodles around as he spoke. “Mother had just gotten that dress, and was eager to take a picture with Father. At least, that’s the story I’ve been told.”

Neku stared at the picture again, then back at Joshua, his mouth agape. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. How old _are_ you?”

Joshua giggled. “Me? I suppose, if you go chronologically… Anywhere between thirteen and forty-eight, give or take a few.”

“ _What?"_

“Now, that’s just going chronologically. Physically, well, I haven’t aged a day since I died. Mentally… Who can say?” He giggled again, then slurped up some noodles.

Neku hadn’t taken his eyes off Joshua. Sure, he was the Composer, and sure, he probably didn’t age, but… _Forty-eight?_  The image of Joshua being any older than him was hard to imagine, imagining him as an adult was nigh on impossible. “So like. You’re old enough to… do taxes?”

Joshua snorted. “Do taxes?”

“Shit. I meant. You know! You’re just, _old!_ ”

“Now, now. I said I was anywhere between thirteen and forty-eight. Jumping to the older end would be getting ahead of yourself. I _could_ , for all you know, be thirteen. Or, I could be sixteen. I might even be twenty-three. There’s plenty of options here.”

Neku flung a noodle at him. “C’mon, asshole. Just tell me how old you are.”

“Not if you fling noodles at me,” he said, pulling the noodle off of his shoulder and placing it onto Neku’s.

“Next time I’ll hit your face.”

“You wouldn’t dare. You _are_ a guest in my house right now. I even made you ramen.”

“Oh, wow, you made me instant ramen. I’m forever indebted to you.” He picked up another noodle with his chopsticks and aimed it at Joshua’s head.

“How about a truce? You put the noodle down, and I’ll tell you. Sound like a deal?”

“Tell me first. I know how you work.”

“Hee hee. I suppose you do.” He put his arms up in surrender. “I usually go with sixteen. Satisfied?”

“Nope.” The noodle flew off Neku’s chopstick towards Joshua, only to be stopped midair. Joshua plucked it out of the air.

“No?” He threw the noodle back at Neku, a smirk on his face. “Okay, you got me. Sixteen and a few months. Not a day older, not a day younger.” The noodle slapped onto Neku’s face. “Now behave. This is a noodle war you can’t win.”

“No fair. Composer powers are off limits in noodle wars.”

The two of them sat in near silence as they ate, the only sounds the occasional tapping of chopsticks against the edges of bowls. The instant ramen was nowhere near the same caliber as Ken Doi’s ramen--Neku was too hungry to care much. While eating, his eyes would sometimes wander towards the dusty picture on the table--looking closer, he could see how Joshua resembled the couple. He had his mother’s hair--light, airy, and curly--yet his father’s face--mysterious and commanding, mostly angles, with a sort of softness around his eyes. Were his eyes purple from his parents? Or from his position as Composer?

“Staring again, hmm?” Joshua teased, snapping Neku back to the present moment. He grabbed his bowl from him and stood up. “My, my. I can feel my cheeks flushing already.”

Neku blushed. “Shut up.” He crossed his arms and pulled out his phone, only to see messages from his parents, asking when he’d be home. It was already nearing ten--he hadn’t planned on being out so late, let alone leaving his parents in the dark.

“Shit, I should get going. I didn’t realize it was already nearly ten. Plus it’s a bit of walk from here.”

“Why not just stay here for the night? I have a spare room. Wouldn’t want you walking back alone this late.”

“I mean…” He rubbed his shoulder. It’s not that he didn’t trust Joshua. He did. Staying the night in an apartment complex crawling with Reapers, though… That made him feel more cautious. “I guess. But you have to walk me back in the morning. I don’t want to run into any Reapers.”

“Hee hee. Of course. Let me show you to your room.” He led Neku down a hallway. “Hopefully Sanae didn’t leave it a mess like he did the kitchen.”

CAT’s graffiti decorated the walls, bright colors contrasting with thick black lines. Around one door, bursts of stylized feathers surrounded the door frame--Neku assumed that was Joshua’s room. A bit further down the hall was another door, this one framed with cat paws, skulls, and inverted crosses. “Hah, you can really tell this was Mr. H who decorated… Signature CAT.”

“It’s a contract violation is what it is. He’s lucky we don’t have to worry about that. One of the perks of being Composer, I suppose.” He opened the door and led Neku in. An audible groan came from Joshua once he saw the state of the room. It wasn’t horrendous, by all means; sheets were jumbled on the floor, a few paint stains here and there, and a couple of empty glasses on the bedside table. “I’m not letting him stay anymore if he doesn’t have the common decency to clean up…” Joshua grumbled, picking up the sheets off the floor and moving them into the closet. He threw another set onto the bed. “Here. These should be clean.”

Neku set his bag down on the floor. “Thanks.”

“Mhmm. Well, I’ll leave you here then. I should get started on those reports. Feel free to try and find some edible food in the pantry if you get hungry.” He moved towards the door, then laughed a bit. “Sweet dreams.”

“Hah. Funny. You know they won’t be.”

Joshua shrugged, walked out, then shut the door behind him, leaving Neku alone in the room.

After putting the sheets on the bed, Neku flopped down onto the clean sheets. They smelled of lavender detergent, a little too strong for his tastes, but at least they were soft. Sleep beckoned to him--he was hoping to at least stay up and sketch a little bit--yet before he knew it, he was already drifting off, falling asleep one room away from Joshua.

\---

_Something new._

_A new dream, a scenario he hadn’t been in before. Joshua’s apartment--the one he’d fallen asleep in--and Joshua sitting next to him on the couch. He was saying something. Neku couldn’t make out the words, he was too wrapped up in watching the way his mouth moved, how it would curve around syllables to form words. He was mesmerized. He couldn’t look away._

_Joshua seemed to notice, and laughed. “What are you doing? Stop staring.”_

_“I can’t help it,” Neku grumbled in reply. “You have nice lips.”_

_“I’m flattered. But pay attention, this is important.” He started talking again, but Neku still couldn’t focus, this time watching his eyes. He’d never really noticed before, but Joshua was… Pretty. He was fascinating. Here was the boy who killed him, the boy who, really, opened up his world, sitting before him. The Composer of Shibuya, a demigod in his own right, and Neku couldn’t look away. He was afraid that if he did, he’d fade, leaving behind only fragments of light on feather’s in his absence._

_Joshua turned to him again, shaking his head. “Calm down. I’m here. I’m staying.”_

_“Good. You better be.” Neku leaned on his shoulder, hand reaching down for Joshua’s._

What are you doing? _He thought._ You can’t do this, you can’t, not with Joshua--

_Joshua chuckled, lacing his fingers through Neku’s._

_“Don’t worry. I’m here.”_

_He pressed his lips against Neku’s cheek._

\---

Sheets were scattered around him, his forehead covered in sweat as his eyes flew open. The room was dark--the clock on the bedside read 2:17 AM.

Neku sat up, heart pounding.

“ _Fuck_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: In a Dream by Red Vox
> 
> So! Some notes!
> 
> First off once again thank you for all the kind comments! I'm prrrobably going to start replying a little less just cause I feel like replying to all of them kinda... Clogs it up but I'm always open for chatting and I promise, I read and take every single comment to heart! They mean so much to me! <3
> 
> Second, this'll probably be the last update for a little while... I've been pretty timely with them but I'm heading over to Japan for study abroad in about two weeks now, so until I can get over there and get adjusted to my schedule there I probably won't get a chance to work on writing! (a shibuya trip is planned.... i'm so excited)
> 
> Finally... Thank you to Ven for helping me finalize Arielle's design and to spiritofsky for turning me onto the song used for the chapter title!


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